Midnight of the Soul
by MotherCHOWGoddess
Summary: Rated T for mention of abuse, attempted rape. Shonen Ai SK & RB. CompanionSequel to 'WoaF: Breaking Strain'. Kaiba tries to understand just what happened in Domino Park, but ends up with more questions than answers. COMPLETE!
1. Dark of the Moon

**Midnight of the Soul**

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** "T" for swearing, mention of violence, abuse and attempted rape; Shonen-Ai and Yaoi ; SKx RB

**Summary:** Companion-Sequel to 'Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain' - Kaiba tries to understand what happened in Domino Park, but comes up with more questions than answers. First Person POV. Set in a slightly Alternate Universe after Battle City using Japanese names for characters, and elements of both manga and anime series. DOMA and the KC Grand Prix arcs of the anime have not occured (and probably won't).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own **_Yu-Gi-Oh!_** Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc. This piece of fiction was written solely for the enjoyment of myself and fellow _**Yu-Gi-Oh!**_ fans, and no profit is being made by its writing or publication.

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**Chapter 1: Dark of the Moon**

I couldn't do it.

Thank God, and whichever sick, sadistic bastard marked him like that...because I truly believe that it was seeing those scars that shocked me back into sanity and forced me to see the desperate, terrified boy instead of the demonic duelist... to see the victim, not the monster.

"What - who did this?"

"What the hell do you care?" he retorted, and I saw the last flicker of defiance go out of his eyes. Brown, chocolate brown; not the evil red-streaked eyes I remembered from Battle City. He sighed, and it was as if I were watching the air escape from a deflating balloon... emptying of all resistance. "Just do it, Kaiba. Get it over with."

I couldn't. As long as he fought back, resisted and defied my will, I could pretend to myself that this was nothing more than a rather extreme duel. That we had, however informally, agreed to the rules and the penalties; even though, as he pointed out, I had a clear advantage. But now, in the face of this exhausted resignation...

Isono did me a favor with his phone call; he gave me a way out of a situation that had turned unbearable, a way to abandon a disastrous course of action without appearing to back down. Bakura watched with wary disbelief as I chewed out my bodyguard, publicly calling him a moron while in my mind I silently praised his timing as my savior; then when I disconnected the call he almost stopped breathing. Terrified, waiting for my next move.

Mere minutes ago I had taunted his weakness and forced him into a response that satisfied my ego, if not my actual goal. But now all I can see are the scars, similar to the ones I carry on my own body. I've already caused enough damage to this boy Bakura -- I'm ashamed to admit I can't remember his given name -- that no apology could ever make right. I doubt he would accept it, anyway. All I can do is walk away, with yet one more cruelty eating at my conscience.

And if my stride is unsteady, I can blame it on the unevenness of the ground I walk on. If I sit and tremble in the dark privacy of my limousine I can brush it aside as delayed reaction to the accident, or suppressed anger at the idiocy of my underlings. If I walk into the mansion and sweep Mokuba into a crushing hug, it's merely to reassure him that his Niisama is uninjured, other than a few scrapes and bruises.

"Seto, what's wrong?" He knows me too well.

"I was going too fast. I almost struck a pedestrian."

Our father, our real father, died in a car accident struck by a speeding driver. Reason enough for me to have the shakes, for nearly causing a similar tragedy to some other family. No point in telling my little brother the rest: that I attacked, assaulted one of my classmates; someone Mokuba might even consider a friend, the way he considers that pack of wanna-be Duelists that tag along with Mutou Yuugito be friends.

He hugged me even tighter. "Is he all right? The pedestrian?"

"I swerved in time. Put my motorcycle through a hedge."

"Are **you** all right?"

"I will be." Or maybe not. I haven't been all right for quite some time now. I told that Ishtar woman that I make my own destiny, but lately I've wondered what kind of fucked-up destiny I've managed to create for myself and for Mokuba. Endless hours of work at Kaiba Corporation, sleepless nights at the mansion; Mokuba keeps telling me I need to slow down, take some time off, take a break -- or something else will. Break, that is.

Like it did today.

Today I came within a heartbeat of ... of ... **raping** a boy my own age, a potential friend, if I ever desired such a thing...and I'm not even sure why.

If it had been any one else, any one! Even Yuugi's grandfather, I know how to deal with. I know how the -tachi thinks, the most likely reactions to my verbal barbs -- just how far to push the Mutt's buttons, for example, before he flies off the handle and tries to jump me -- when to walk away with the last word. But I don't really know Bakura. When he finally snapped back and tried to walk away, I made a terrible mistake: I forgot that he wasn't the Mutt. Or Mazaki. Or even Yuugi. I kept pushing.

Mokuba practically ordered me to stay in for the rest of the night, and I was happy to obey. Glad for once that most of the mansion staff had Thursdaynights off. We threw a couple of rice bowls in the microwave for supper, made about five pounds of popcorn and played video games together until my hands stopped shaking, then watched the satellite feed from the States -- Mokuba loves those old sitcoms, I'm not sure why. He fell asleep on the couch next to me and I carried him up to bed around 11 o'clock. He'll be cranky at school tomorrow, but I didn't have the heart to insist.

Yes, I have a heart, though God knows I've been called heartless often enough. I believe at the moment the prevailing opinion amongst the Yuugi-tachi is that I'm some kind of artificial construct with a computer program that mimics the thought process. Maybe they're right.

Maybe I'm the monster.

I spent the night in Mokuba's room; I didn't want to be alone. I listened to the clock in the hall chime away the quarter hours: eleven, eleven-fifteen, eleven thirty... I must have dozed off for a bit, because I remember having an odd dream. Something about a scales, with a handful of cards on one side and a feather on the other, and somehow they balanced. Even though the cards should have been heavier, it made sense because they were really souls...

I woke with a shudder, hearing the hall clock chiming again. Midnight? Mokuba was still asleep, even though I'd thought I heard him call my name. Maybe it was part of the dream, because it didn't quite sound like his voice. I got to my feet quietly, so as not to disturb him, and made my way to the bedroom window. No moon tonight, but I could still see the lawn and the driveway below from the window seat.

I believe in science, not magic. And yet, as much as I scoff and mock in public, I can no longer deny the existence and the power of the so-called Sennen Items and the God-Cards. Too many things happened during Battle City and the Finals that couldn't be explained away as holographic malfunctions, hypnosis or mass hysteria. That doesn't mean I buy into all the Destiny-Save the World crap Ishtar and Mutou were spouting throughout Battle City, that just because an Egyptian pharaoh and a priest dueled three thousand years agoMutou Yuugiand I are pre-destined to repeat history.

You were part of that mess, Bakura. But was it by choice, or were you brainwashed by that psycho Marik like Jounouchi was on the docks earlier? The false Marik implied so, and Yuugi was reluctant to hurt you by using the God-Card against your life points. I had to threaten him with disqualification... I'm not proud of that, either.

Those scars. Were they Marik's doing, too? Damn it, I knew I should have had the lot of them prosecuted! My lawyers could have come up with something to charge them with...

Why do I care?

You may have given up Duel Monsters but you're still a Duelist. Every insult I threw at you, you countered and neatly turned against me. But you stayed in Defense Mode until I backed you into a corner. One moment I'm baiting what is probably the mildest-tempered member of the -tachi (aside from Yuugi, and maybe the Mutt's little sister), and the next you're laying down Duel conditions, your eyes are flashing amber fury and suddenly I'm on the ground in a pile of brambles...

_My God, Bakura! You thought I was serious! Was that when things went spinning out of control?_

Control. That's what it always boils down to. I couldn't control Gozaburo but I could control my reactions, my responses to his actions. And eventually I discovered how to use that to keep Mokuba safe. Every action has an opposite and equal reaction; I learned that lesson well. And I learned to predict and how to manipulate other people's reactions. If I could provoke you to anger, to violence, what else could I goad you into? If I could force you to react in fear, in desperation ... to get what I really wanted. Not what you obviously thought; that was just the means to my end.

Aren't you proud of me, 'father'? I'm not.

I never learned how to 'pull my punches'. Go for the throat, grind your foe into the dirt; that's what Gozaburo taught me. No mercy. Losers deserve to be crushed, to be humiliated, to be destroyed. To lose is to die.

Why am I still alive, then?

Because of Mokuba. He still needs me.

But does he really? I can't protect him; I can't keep him safe, no matter how hard I try. I couldn't save him from Pegasus; I almost lost him to that damned AI program pretending to be our stepbrother Noa. And when I got caught in that Virtual Reality game, Mokuba went to Yuugi-tachi for help. To his friends. And if something - permanent - ever happens to me, I know that they will take care him. Might even avenge me, if Mokuba asked them to.

Who are you, Bakura? The laughing wild-eyed maniac who Dueled Yuugi atop my Battle Ship? The quiet, polite, almost timid boy I vaguely remember from last year's classes? Are you somehow both? You said it yourself -- _'I don't like who I become when I Duel'_; why didn't I listen? What kind of Duelist is afraid of winning?

Mokuba's window faces east; he loves the light in the morning. A morning that isn't too far away, if the paleness along the horizon is any indication. I've barely slept, because each time I close my eyes I see brown eyes and pale silver-white hair, and a burn shaped like a triangle inside a circle surrounded by other scars; some old, some mostly healed, others obviously still painful and raw.

_'What you want is nothing I care to give.'_

You should have sent me to the Shadow Realm when you had the chance.

_'I will _**not **_make this easy for you.'_

You challenged me, and you lost.

_'Just do it, Kaiba. Get it over with.'_

Game over, Bakura.

So why do I feel like I lost, too?

Because... I'm still alive. And tomorrow, or the next day or the day after that I will have to face you again, either at school or somewhere unexpected. And I will have to face the truth, that what I want has changed and that it's my own damn fault if I have no chance in Hell of achieving it now. So, I will do what I've always done -- pretend that I don't care.

_' -- who did this?' _

_'What the hell do you care?'_

I don't know.

God, what have I done?

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**Author's Notes Revised:** What I'm doing is editing for consistancy in spelling, especially in the Japanese names, and correcting a few errors I made re: canon details.

**Old A.N. :** Poor Seto confused. So is MCG; it was hard getting **this** much out of the stiff-necked tight-lipped s.o.b. ! As far as I can figure, it was a combination of: (a) ' -tachi baiting' carried a little too far; (b) raw nerves left over from Battle City on both sides; (c) Seto's temper going postal after Ryou dumped him on his butt, and; (d) what sounds to me like more than a touch of self-destructive depression on Seto's part!

**Reviewers from 'Breaking Strain', Chapter 3**: _**Caleyndar**,_ I apologize! I've misspelled your name twice now, gomen nasai! What did you think of Ch. 3? **_Fatalis Amore_**, your wish is my intent, _mon capitán_! **_Kekewey_ **& **_Relinquished_**, thank you for your kind words! Since you both wondered pretty much the same thing -- it's common for abuse/assault victims to blame themselves for what happened; that's what's going on with Ryou, especially since he really has very few solid memories of Battle City! If the Spirit of the Ring did pull something nasty on Kaiba during BC, I don't know about it yet. As for Ryou being vengeful, I believe it's going to be more a matter of not putting up with any of Kaiba's sh-t than actively getting even -- tho' I do know Ryou will be messing with Seto's mind a bit, later on... Keh keh keh... _**Broken Music Box**,_ you reviewed on 'Shadow', but since that story's more or less finished -- thank you so much for your kind words about my writing style! I think that most readers/reviews on ffiction tend to prefer SxJ or YxYY or RxYB for their Shonen Ai/Yaoi fixes. Hey, I read them too! So I can't throw stones.

Hugs, chocolate & plushies for **Kekewey** & **Broken Music Box** -- you put me on your Favorite Authors lists! WOW!

Mother CHOW Goddess --

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"Stop calling me HATHOR, bratling! It was an honest typo..." 

"I wanna be Daniel Jackson when I grow up! -- damn, too late; I AM grown up!"


	2. Morning's Light

**Midnight of the Soul**

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** T for swearing, mention of violence, abuse, and attempted rape; Shonen-Ai; SKx RB

**Summary & Disclaimer:** Same as Chapter 1.

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**Chapter Two: Morning's Light**

_I know where I am. The echoing chamber, impossibly huge with its equally impossible ring-pool of molten lava -- what the hell was the moron who wrote this program thinking? And what the hell am I doing here in the first -- sorry, second -- place?This scenario was scrapped from the game almost as soon as I was back on my feet, right after I fired the bonkotsu Five._

_Of course, last time I was here (in a manner of speaking) I was shackled to one of the Stones of Sacrifice trying to shut down the game by arguing with the Witty Phantom. The perspective is a little different from where I'm standing now, but the details are pretty much the same. Reddish light reflecting off the walls from the Lava Pit of Redemption -- what an incredibly lame plot device! And who thought up THAT name?-- the T-shaped slabs of virtual granite looming darkly on the crest of the dais, the limp unconscious form dangling from one set of chains..._

_What the HELL... Mokuba? God, no..._

_Panic sends me scrambling upwards over jagged pieces of broken masonry even as a small voice in the back of my mind tries to remind me that this isn't real, this isn't how the game plays out, this isn't the way it happened. A sudden flare from the pit further illumines the scene and I stop in my tracks. _

_Not Mokuba._

_Bakura._

..._why? Never mind, ask questions later. If this really is theLegendary Heroes game, then my mere presence should trigger the appearance of either the Witty Phantom or that damned Mythic Dragon, it doesn't matter, I've got to get Bakura off that stone, it's my fault he's there._

_He's bleeding... the wounds on his chest are dripping red, but that's not the worst of it. That burn, the one that looks like a triangle inside a circle, is **glowing **purple-black. Which makes no sense at all, but I somehow know that this is seriously not good, I have to get him out of those manacles NOW. So I reach up without the slightest notion of how I'm going to get them open, and suddenly Bakura just falls into my arms and I stumble back slightly and oh dear God I think he's dead because he's not breathing and someone just stabbed me through the gut with a firehot poker..._

_Please..._

_"Poor Kaiba-boy," a voice sneers from behind me and I stiffen in shock. "Too little, too late... again."_

_This isn't real, my mind screams at me, that's not Pegasus, don't answer, don't acknowledge him..._

_"You failed, boy. " _

_No! Not him, too. He's DEAD... how many times do I have to kill you, old man?_

_"Why, niisama? He's my friend!"_

_I don't know, Mokuba, I'm sorry..._

_"Kaiba! What have you DONE?"_

_Yuugi? No, the other Yuugi, the one who faced me across the Battle Tower, eyes blazing as he shattered my dreams of victory and redemption as surely as he'd shattered my mind and heart earlier... Other Yuugi, help him, please... I can't even look at him as I hold Bakura's lifeless body, my hands stained black with his blood._

_Wait. Black? That's not right._

_Ryou..._

With a gasp I'm awake again. _Ryou. His name is Ryou._ And for some reason, my suddenly remembering Bakura's given name is even more important than the fact that I'm sitting upright in Mokuba's bed with sunlight streaming in through the eastern windows and the clock in the hall is chiming -- what time is it? There's a note on the nightstand --

_**Seto, I told them to let you sleep 'cause you were so restless last night. Isono is taking me to school so don't worry about that. See you this afternoon and DON'T even THINK of going to work today. I mean it. M.**_

The choked laugh that spills out of my throat sounds more like a sob to my ears. _Oh Moku-chan, how did I ever deserve a little brother like you? How can you still look up to me and care after everything I've been and done?_ A few deep breaths and I manage to pull myself together again. It's nearly 9:30 already and for a moment I consider ignoring my brother's orders and heading for the office to salvage at least part of the day. But Mokuba has ways of extracting retribution that make Pegasus look like a teddy bear...

_Pegasus._ I shudder a bit, the last bits of my nightmare replaying in my head. I need a shower, badly, if only as a symbolic cleansing of my body despite however deeply stained my soul may be. I almost expect to see diluted streams of blood swirling down the drain with the suds, but of course that's nonsense. So I close my eyes and bow my head under the jets as if the pulsing water can somehow pound a semblance of sanity into my brain.

If only it were that easy. Neither my mind nor my body are ready to let go of yesterday; I ache in muscles I'd nearly forgotten I own. _Damn, who knew that quiet, mild-mannered Bakura packed such a punch?_ I'd expect it from the Mutt or what's his name, his sidekick -- no, I wouldn't, I realize. They'd have come in swinging from the start; whereas, other than the leg-sweep that landed me on my ass and sent my temper ballistic, Bakura's moves had been strictly defensive. Deflective. Even after I had him pinned ---

I groan and barely resist bashing my head against the shower wall. _What the hell had I been thinking? **Was** I even thinking?_ Stupid question, obvious answer. I wasn't. At least, not with my brain. That was why I'd been tearing up the road on my Blue-Eyes in the first place, to keep from tearing a few brainless heads from their suit-encased necks...I'd been hair-triggered, and unfortunately, Bakura had tripped me. Figuratively **and **literally. Wrong place and definitely bad timing. Entirely wrong gender...

_K'so! I do NOT need these kinds of thoughts right now!_ I reach down and savagely twist the temperature control to its coldest, most powerful setting and bite back a yelp of shock as liquid ice hits my skin. I need cold, icy reason so I can determine exactly what happened yesterday and why; so I can make certain that it never happens again.

Or if it does, so that no other innocents get hurt in the fall-out.

By the time I'm dried off, dressed and stalking down the hall to the mansion's library, it's obvious that the storm warnings have already gone out: 'Master Kaiba's in a mood -- take cover!' Fortunately for myself and for Mokuba, most of the house staff have learned not to take my growled threats of dismissal **too** seriously except in instances of flagrant dishonesty and continued incompetence. Quiet, unobtrusive efficiency, on the other hand is always (if not obviously) appreciated. It's far too late in the morning for breakfast, but there's a large thermos of coffee and a bento box with scrambled eggs over rice and herbs on my desk, even though my still being home at this hour has thrown off the household's daily routine; and I make a mental note to do something nice for our cook sometime soon.

A quick call to Kaiba Corp. confirms the extent of my little brother's meddling. Apparently he's told the 'need-to-knows' that I've been ordered to stay home today due to a possible concussion from my motorcycle wipe-out! Conniving little brat... The fond smile I feel on my face suddenly freezes. Could it be that simple? A concussion? Even Bakura suggested that possibility during the early stages of our encounter...

Tempting thought. But no. I might not have been in my right mind yesterday afternoon, but I doubt I can assign the blame to a head injury, or excuse my actions by claiming I didn't know what I was doing.

Damn.

Well, Mokuba may have forbidden me from going to work, but I can still bring work to me...

**(tbc)**

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**Revised Author's Notes:** Again, edited for spelling consistancy and to take into account certain details that differ between the original Japanese version and the 4Kids dub. As previously noted, I'm perfectly willing to bounce my interpretation back and forth from manga to J-anime to dub and back in the interests of telling a good story. To quote Emerson: "A foolish consistancy is the hobgoblin of small minds." (see Dr. Erickson? I **was** paying attention in American Lit class all those years ago!)

**Author's Note**: If the tone of this chapter seems different from the first one, consider it the difference between the dark of night and the light of day. Despite his nightmares, Kaiba did finally get some rest and he's heading straight back into denial -- or at least trying to. Heh heh heh... Everyone, feel free to drool over mental image of Seto in the Shower (Snerk!). I was not entirely happy with the way chapter one turned out; I honestly felt it was a bit rushed and incomplete, and you reviewers, bless you, seemed to pick up on that as well.

Thanks to: **AmunRa** (my idol! - well, one of them, anyway), **Ciu Sune**, **Relinquished**, **The Summer Stars**, **Caleyndar** (who graciously continues to ignore my misspelling of her name!) and **Kekewey** -- my wonderful 'Midnight' reviewers! Um, **Kekewey**, that dream with the cards and scales in chapt. 1? I was actually trying to imply that Kaiba was picking up mystical vibes from Ryou's little midnight ritual in 'Breaking Strain', that **he's** the one about to get judged... oh well. I completely forgot about Death-T (D'oh!), and I suspect Seto would like to forget about it too...fat chance, boyo! When he least expects it...

Thanks also to **Nenya85,** (who hasn't reviewed here, and I would be deliriously happy if she did, she is AWESOME), because it while I was reviewing her latest chapter of "Déjà Vu" that Seto's mindset for the rest of 'Midnight' suddenly solidified... Go read!

MCG


	3. The Noon Day Sun

**Midnight of the Soul**

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** T for swearing, violence, mention of abuse,attempted rape; Shonen-Ai; SK x RB

**Summary& Disclaimer:** Same as Chapter 1. Companion piece/Sequel to 'Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain' - Kaiba tries to understand what happened in Domino Park, but comes up with more questions than answers. First Person POV.I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc.

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Chapter Three: The Noon Day Sun

As I boot up the library computer, I tell myself that I'm not really working; I'm just tying up some loose ends from Battle City, settling some questions in my mind about how things got so out of hand during those last few days. **Working **would involve KaibaLand, and phone calls to America, and maybe firing a few of those suit-wearing idiots I was trying so hard to avoid ripping to shreds yesterday. **Working** would involve contacting Kaiba Corp.'s PR division and telling them to outsource the advertising campaign for the new 'Tokyo Samurai' Virtual Reality game because they are blithering morons and we need a fresh viewpoint, and by the way, I want Hiwatari-sensei from school listed as a historical consultant (keh, I can hear the screams of rage and disbelief already-- what can I say? The man deserves it, for making History class not only bearable but interesting last term!). **Working** is what I do in my office, whether here in the mansion or the KC tower; what I'm doing right now in the library is indulging my curiosity, scratching an itch that just won't go away….

_' …if you'd been paying attention to anything besides those damned God-Cards…'_

Damn it. The deeper I dig, the more obvious it becomes: there were serious flaws in the Battle City Tournament from the very beginning, flaws that I ignored because I was so tightly focused on my own agenda. Flaws that people other than myself exploited, to the detriment of the Duelist community and possibly to Kaiba Corp.'s reputation in the gaming industry should anyone else realize the true extent of participant manipulation that occurred. Out of the eight semi-finalists only Mutou Yuugi, Kujaku Mai, Jounouchi Katsuya, and myself held any sort of official Duelist ranking prior to the tournament. Of the others, Marik and his decoy were Dueling under false pretenses and using irregular if not illegal methods of play; Isis Ishtar was either an extremely talented amateur with delusions of grandeur or using equally irregular playing methods, and Bakura Ryou….

Never mind that his official Duelist ranking was nearly non-existent and therefore hardly qualified him to participate in the first place; that certainly hadn't stopped the inu, or the Ishtars or the Rare Hunters. Never mind that he'd apparently acquired his duel disc and the necessary locator cards using highly irregular methods. Bakura shouldn't have been able to walk, let alone Duel that night. Not with Yuugi, not with anyone! While Yuugi and I were searching for his friends that afternoon, Bakura had been in the emergency room being treated for stab wounds to his left arm; while we Dueled against Lumous and Umbra to save Mokuba, Bakura lay in a room at Domino General receiving IV treatment for severe blood loss. And at some point while Yuugi Dueled a brainwashed Jounouchi at the docks, Bakura had disappeared from his room leaving behind an unconscious Mutou Sugoroku and a pack of confused and clueless doctors.

When the so-called 'Namu' had entered the stadium and been greeted so enthusiastically by Yuugi-tachi, I'd pretty much tuned out the rest of their conversation after nearly gagging when 'Namu' talked about that make inu being an inspiration, dismissing the newcomer as being one of their 'friendship circle'. Maybe I should have suspected something then, that a total unknown could succeed so quickly against so many other highly ranked Duelists. Yet, it had happened before -- at Duelist Kingdom the Mutt had started out as zako and finished Second, as he is so fond of loudly boasting to one and all. I'd sooner be flayed alive with a Rose-Whip than admit it, especially within his hearing, but -- Jounouchi Katsuya has potential. I've seen the recordings of his Duel against Yuugi at Duelist Kingdom; I was studying **Yuugi's **technique at the time but even I can't deny it, especially now. When he's focused the make inu is formidable. I saw it again during his Duels against both the false Marik on the Battle Ship, and the real one at the Tower; if he'd been able to direct his last card before collapsing, Jounouchi would have won against that psycho. Not that I'll ever tell him so, of course, but he almost had me at the Dueling Tower. If he cleaned up his deck, worked on his strategy, stopped making amateur mistakes and depended less on luck for his victories, the Mutt might actually live up to his over-inflated opinion of his Dueling prowess.

So it wasn't unprecedented for a near-beginner to make it to the Tournament Finals, especially if said beginner was a 'friend' of Mutou Yuugi. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to complaints about unregistered duel discs and stolen cards…. I should have, but I shrugged them off. After all, one of the hidden purposes of Battle City was to flush out the Rare Hunters that Isis Ishtar had mentioned and if the make inu could recover from an early loss, then any Duelist worthy of the name should have no trouble doing the same.

Then Bakura had walked into the arena, and I swear the entire -tachi turned into a flock of mother hens! _'Bakura, what are you doing here?' 'You should be in bed, man!' 'Are you all right?' 'We need to get you back to the hospital!' 'You've got a duel disc?'_ Good question, that last one, which never was answered properly during all the clucking and fussing. Apparently Bakura had been the victim of an unscrupulous Rare Hunter early in the Tournament and injured seriously enough to require a trip to the hospital. And it was the Mutt's new bosom buddy 'Namu' who'd found him and helped get him to the emergency room? Again, that should have set off the alarms in my head -- it was shortly afterwards that the Mutt, Mazaki and Mokuba had been attacked and kidnapped by the Rare Hunters -- but we were all distracted as the man believed to be Marik Ishtar appeared.

The make inu completely forgot about trying to get Bakura back to the hospital and started snarling and growling at the Egyptian duelist, and for once I totally agreed with him! I should have disqualified that bastard right then and there, I even told him so -- for kidnapping and endangering Mokuba, and disrespecting the Kaiba name, HAH! But I'd wanted those damned God cards….

Kidnapped by the Rare Hunters, hypnotized by Marik -- it was the only explanation that made sense. That maniac had repeatedly threatened to use Yuugi's 'friends' against him to win the God Cards and had done so, spectacularly… and Bakura was Yuugi's friend. That had become quite obvious during their Duel, when 'Marik' had released Bakura from his hypnosis and the boy had collapsed onto the Dueling Deck. Mutou had nearly forfeited, unwilling to injure his friend further. Then why had he changed his mind and attacked?

With a sigh, I rest my aching head against one hand and close my eyes, unwilling to see the damning information on my computer screen. Not that it helps, with my near-photographic memory so capable of retrieving details from a report I'd read but not fully understood at the time, impatient with the fragilities of the human body; caring only that the boy's condition was not immediately life-threatening, and did not require emergency treatment that might postpone what I conceived as my ultimate triumph.

_Patient exhibits symptoms of physical exhaustion and hypothermic reaction, most likely caused by exsanguination and exposure to hostile environmental conditions. _In layman's terms: severe blood loss, electrical shock and a wind chill factor of minus something.

_Recommend IV drip, transfusion to counteract blood loss. Patient has previously received treatment for deep lacerations to upper left forearm, possibly self-inflicted(?). _No, that I can't accept; it doesn't fit with what I know of Bakura, that he would deliberately injure himself…but then, apparently I don't know Bakura as well as I'd thought I did.

_First degree burns on center torso, symptomatic of recent contact with over-heated metal and/or synthetic materials; may result in scarring. _Don't mince words, doctor, we're all adults here; the boy was branded. Like a criminal … or a piece of property. Quite obvious, once you've actually seen the mark.

_Semi-circular pattern of puncture wounds in varied stages of closure across center torso, apparently sustained over a period of some months. _Again, I'd been unwilling at the time to recognize signs of systematic abuse because to do so would be admitting too close a similarity to my own past. Admitting my own weakness and shame.

Why does this bother me so much? What am I missing here?

I reach out to shut down my computer -- no sense leaving it on; my eyes are stinging so much I can't even focus on the screen…and never you mind why my eyes hurt! -- and my hand brushes against the notepad I've been scribbling on, knocking it to the floor. Nothing important, just doodles….

Of a triangle inside of a circle. And inside the triangle, one of those damned Egyptian-stylized eyes.

Like the symbol on Yuugi's pendant. Like the symbol on that freaky scepter thing Marik kept waving around during the tournament. Like the symbols on the stone tablets in the Domino Museum that Isis Ishtar insists reveal my past life and destiny.

Like the mark on Bakura's chest.

_'Afraid of losing again?' _

_'Afraid of winning… I don't like who I become when I Duel…'_

No. I refuse to believe that nonsense about 'other selves' and reincarnated Egyptian pharaohs and priests! **Duel Monsters** is just a card game, not some mystical hocus pocus ritual involving destiny and saving the world from the Shadow Realm. It's a fairy tale, a lie…. I am not….I don't….

Mutou Yuugi believes it. So does that pack of baka he calls friends. So do the Ishtars, obviously; belonging to some obscure religious cult that has managed to infect some of the top Duelists in the world with their insanity. Pegasus had that false eye….

Could I be wrong?

When Yuugi Duels it's almost as if he becomes another person, confident and determined -- ruthless. I've seen it. Mokuba's seen it, too. It's not just Yuugi, either. Marik -- the real one, not his decoy -- changed also, at the end of that final Duel with Yuugi as if he'd been struck by a lightning bolt of sanity instead of Dark Magic attack. And Bakura …. I think that Duel with Yuugi is the only time I've actually seen him play Duel Monsters. And the person Dueling that night was **not** the quiet, self-effacing Bakura I'd seen so often hiding in the school library or loitering wistfully on the fringes of the -tachi. Definitely not the anxious and concerned boy with whom I traded insults in the park yesterday afternoon.….

Damn it…. I'd actually enjoyed Bakura's carefully polite retorts to my jabs! They'd displayed a creativity and -- dare I say it? -- a sense of humor that's lacking in most of my exchanges with, say, the Mutt, or even Yuugi. That wry comment about taking me home to his grandparents to learn manners… I'd almost laughed! I admit it, I was intrigued; I wanted … something more than insults, I don't know exactly what. I wanted to Duel Bakura myself, to see what would happen….

He refused, and tried to walk away. I wouldn't let him. I kept pushing. He lost his temper, I lost mine…

My God, he thought I was serious! Is that really the way the others see me? Why didn't he just keep walking? Why did he let me push him into a corner? Why the hell didn't he run when he had the chance? Damn it, Bakura, you picked a really bad time to stand up to a bully! I would have let you go, after watching you squirm a bit… at least, I meant to….Why did you have to fight back like that? Why did you….

Your eyes changed. Like they did on the Battle Ship, blazing with fury and hate and …. Suddenly I was on the ground and you stood there glaring and all I could see was the Bakura who mocked and taunted and threatened….I had to stop you. Crush you… defeat and destroy my opponent…

_Why am I shaking like this? It's over. I won…_

Didn't I? You're lying there, unmoving… no, you're still breathing, I didn't kill you thank God, there's still time … you can't get away; I've got you trapped, Bakura….I have the upper hand, you've lost…

"Mr. Kaiba, sir?"

_Ahhh! Give me a heart attack, Isano!_ "What?" I snap back, trying to conceal my startlement with a typical bad-tempered response. My pulse is racing from the shock, and I'm not certain whether to be angry or glad to have my brooding interrupted. _Glad, I think_…. Not that I plan to let him know that. I push away from the desk and get to my feet. "Well?" I demand, raising an eyebrow at my right-hand flunky. "I assume you have some lame-assed excuse for barging in here --" I leave it hanging, and I stifle a laugh at his obvious discomfort.

"Your motorcycle, sir…." And I tune out the rest of the details of this dent and that repair, and the part that has to be special ordered. My motorcycle. My Blue-Eyes White Dragon in gleaming metal and screaming horsepower. My freedom, and the catalyst for yesterday's disaster…

"Get rid of it."

"…Sir?"

"Have it repaired and get rid of it," I reiterate coldly.

"But…"

"Do it."

"…as you wish, Mr. Kaiba."

"Isano." He waits patiently while I pull my thoughts together. "Make sure that one of the usual charities benefits." Isano knows what I mean; we've done this before, though not usually with such a personally customized article. I won't ask and he won't tell, but I know that in a day or so one of the city's homeless or domestic violence shelters, or food banks, or one of the orphanages will receive a large anonymous cash donation. This is my penance, my partial atonement for losing control over myself; depriving myself of a source of pleasure and wresting some good from myevil. I still have the jet, after all, not as convenient when I need to get away but also not as likely to create traffic problems or inadvertent injuries to those unfortunate enough to cross my path.

"Sir."

"Remind me when it's time to pick up Mokuba," I add as he's leaving and he bows slightly in acknowledgment, then I'm alone again with my thoughts and my darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note**: And Kaiba's journey through denial continues…. Chapter Three's title comes from a well-known quote regarding 'mad dogs and Englishmen' -- thank you, my dear readers & reviewers for your patience. Reading over this again, I realize that Chp. 3 might seem almost a re-write of Chp. 1, but keep in mind that this is Kaiba we're talking about -- he worries at things until he's satisfied! Plus, in Chp. 3 he's pretty much wide awake... 

Later, 'gators!


	4. Post Meridian

**Rating:** T for swearing, mention of violence, abuseand attempted rape; Shonen-Ai; SKx RB.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc. Neither do I own 'Migraine-Strength aspirin', except as any consumer might. But I know from personal experience - the stuff **works**!

**Summary:** Companion/Sequel to 'Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain' - Kaiba tries to understand what happened in Domino Park, but comes up with more questions than answers. First Person Seto's POV.

**Midnight of the Soul**

Chapter Four - Post Meridian

I am, by the way, quite aware of what time Mokuba's school day ends; the fact remains that I am equally aware that I have a tendency to get caught up in whatever project I happen to be working on at the moment and lose track of time - hence my request for Isono to remind me. This has become a recent practice of mine since we returned from America, whenever my schedule permits (and sometimes when it doesn't): to be in the limousine and accompany Mokuba back to the mansion after school. I can't always stay, but at least we have that fifteen to twenty minutes together most days, even if I have to go back to Kaiba Corp immediately afterwards. I hate to admit being grateful to that Noa imposter, but almost losing Mokuba in that Virtual Reality world shook me. Badly. To say I've been making an effort to spend more time with my brother and to appreciate him properly would be an understatement. It **is** hard; I have to constantly make conscious decisions to respond positively to Mokuba's presence and requests instead of the all-too-automatic 'not now, Mokuba'. It's becoming easier, though - a new habit, one might say. Except - I don't **ever** want to realize that I've been taking my little brother for granted again. Even if it's in a good way.

Glancing at the library clock, I discover I still have several hours to kill. Or be killed….an image from the nightmare earlier flashes through my mind, that horrible moment of holding Bakura's limp lifeless body in my arms and knowing - **knowing** - that it was my fault somehow, my doing that placed him in that situation….

It should have been me, Bakura… I'm the one who should have been the sacrifice….

_Whoa! Where the hell did _**that**_ come from?_

My head feels like some demented percussionist is doing a drum solo inside my cranium as I stumble and nearly fall back against my desk. Almost of its own volition my hand hits the intercom button.

"Yes, Kaiba-sama?"

"Migraine-strengthaspirin - do we have any?"

"… Hai, Kaiba-sama….demo…"

It seems Mokuka has also 'briefed' the house staff. "I have a headache, **not** a concussion," I snap, then regret my harshness and sigh. "Arigato, Midori-kun, I appreciate the concern but I would appreciate the aspirin even more. If you please."

"…of course, Kaiba-sama…. Gomen... "

Which unfortunately conjures up the memory of an apologetic and anxious classmate offering assistance I certainly don't need and reject as nastily as possible. A classmate who then cleverly and oh-so-politely makes it clear that since I'm going to be that way about it, then I can just go f-ck myself, and have a nice day…. Except that's not quite what he says, now, is it? And me being who I am, I can't let it pass.

_'You challenged me. I accept.'_

I know that he didn't mean it that way. I may be a behaviorally-challenged cold-hearted bastard sorely lacking in all but the very basic social skills outside of the business world, but even I can recognize the difference between a provocative invitation and an unfortunate slip of the tongue. And I know that it's cruel of me to tease the boy, to find his stammering evasions amusing…. I want to see what he'll do, though. Bakura has piqued my interest, with his odd combination of courtesy and temper…by turns shy then sarcastic; frightened, then almost threatening, then….

Then….

I fully intended to let him go. I didn't mean it any more than he did. I truly expected Bakura to stammer more apologies or attempt an explanation, such as: 'I'm sorry, Kaiba-kun, I think you misunderstood, I don't think of you that way, really I don't…'; or maybe a defensively flirtatious 'really, Kaiba-kun, you don't have to be so rough, just **ask **next time…', and I would have snarled something snidely contemptuous or disgustedly dismissive and that would have been the end of it. **Should** have been the end of it.

I did not expect Bakura to break my grip, to throw my bluff back in my face, to… to…go BattleCity on me and put me on the ground. I…snapped. Lost control. Went ballistic… pick your favorite expression, they all mean the same thing. I had to take Bakura down, hard… I **needed** to take him down, to blot out the memory of my failure at Battle City, to wipe that mocking sneer off his face, to stop the laughing, those flashing red-brown eyes filled with hate and contempt and power …

Still defiant and full of contempt for me, **me**, Kaiba Seto! even though he's been knocked breathless and I've got him pinned, helpless and unable to move. I can break him, I know how: Gozaburo, damn his black soul, saw to that; he taught me well. I have control now, I have the power and Bakura knows it. I can see it in his eyes. He knows what I can do, and I can see the fear….I can almost taste it…

That's power, that's strength, that's control…. to do what I want, take what I want. You glare at me still, refusing to surrender, refusing to give me my victory ….bruised and battered but unbroken, afraid yet still defiant … Silver-white hair in disarray, tangled and littered with bits of leaf and twig; I run my fingers through surprising softness, like feather down or… I remember a large fluffy white dog when I was younger, it's long fur was soft and light like this; it had large mysterious eyes, too….It had wanted to play, but **my** owner, my '**father**', had me dragged away; that had been punishment enough to my child's mind, but not by Gozaburo's rules. His game, his rules… but I was the winner. Because Gozaburo is **dead**, and I'm alive, and now we play **my** game by **my **rules, as Bakura so kindly has reminded me.

Except I haven't won. Not yet. Not until I get what I want….

_'What you want is nothing I care to give.' _What is it I want, Bakura? How can you presume to know, when I myself don't? And they call **me** arrogant! But I might settle for an acknowledgment of your defeat and my triumph over you and your so-called 'Shadow Powers', for your surrender… _'You'll have to take it.'_

Almost daring me to follow through on my unspoken threat! So be it, then, Bakura; I don't bluff. Game over….

"Gomen, Kaiba-sama…"

Midori-kun's voice jolts me from the daze of memory, and I open my eyes to see her standing beside the desk. I've been sitting here only God knows how long,fingers pressed against the throbbing veins in my forehead. I take the caplets and the glass of water she offers, but postpone swallowing them. I deserve this pain, even though it prevents me from fulfilling my objectives. "Arigato, Mi - Midori-san."

I can tell she's startled at the unaccustomed honorific even though it's one she should be entitled to, were I anyone other than Kaiba Seto, multi-billionaire and her employer. Old enough to be my mother, perhaps even a younger great aunt, Midori-kun is one of the few members of the mansion staff to be retained after Gozaburo's 'accident'; my public rationale being that Mokuba was fond of the junior housekeeper, and as long as she remained loyal, efficient and discreet I saw no reason to further disrupt my younger brother's already shaky sense of security and comfort.

"Kaiba-kun, are you all right?"

"Iie", I whisper to our mutual shock. "I don't think I am, Midori-san." Am I selfish, to cherish the worry in my housekeeper's expression? To feel warmed, if only a little, by her apparent concern? I catch her wrist lightly as she turns, perhaps to summon assistance, someone she feels more capable of handling a possibly concussed and incoherent teenaged CEO. "Iie, Midori-san. Please…. I… humbly request your guidance. I … hurt someone yesterday, and I … don't know what to do."

Bless Midori's motherly soul, she doesn't panic or start fussing about. She simply sits down on the chair I pull up for her next to mine and studies me as if I were an errant and frightened child. Which, to be honest (although only privately), is exactly what I am at the moment.

"Who, and how badly, Kaiba-kun?"

I take a deep breath,as if steeling myself for an ordeal. "Someone from school, and I don't know."

"Was it the motorcycle accident?"

"Yes…and … no."

Midori gives a little exasperated snort. "What kind of answer is that, Kaiba-kun?" she scolds, and I smirk half-heartedly. How can I express my gratitude towards this woman? She's been here with Mokuba and I through the bad and the ugly and the insane, although I doubt she comprehends just how bad and how ugly; after all, she was only a junior housekeeper at the time, not privy to the nasty little secrets in the Kaiba closets. But she stayed through the insanity, and during my 'breakdown' she took care of Mokuba, and I have never yet seen pity or disgust or condemnation in her eyes.

"Are you going to take those, or just play with them?" Midori-san adds, drawing my attention to the fact that I'm pushing the painkilling caplets around aimlessly on the glass desktop with a finger. I glare and wash the pills down almost defiantly, to which Midori responds by giving me The Look. The same one Mokuba gives me when he thinks I'm being deliberately clueless or a total asshole; he must have learned it somewhere and I'm reasonably certain I'm looking at the point of origin. Keh. I was not quite accurate when I told Bakura that 'nobody talks to me like that' - Mokuba and Midori-san do it all the time.

_Bakura…._

"I was angry because of the accident," I confess finally, and Midori nods encouragingly as I struggle with the next part. How can I explain what I still don't understand? "The… hurting happened after…because I was angry."

She frowns thoughtfully and makes a suggestion. "Apologize?"

"I can't."

To her credit, she doesn't ask. Midori-san knows perfectly well that Kaibas never apologize. Not to mention how incredibly impossible it would be to walk up to Bakura Ryou and simply say, 'I'm sorry I insulted you and beat you up and… and …'

Almost raped you. I doubt even Mutou Yuugi could forgive that.

Midori-san stands up and pats me reassuringly on the shoulder. "Give it some time, Kaiba-kun. It's too fresh right now; give your classmate a chance to cool down." Midori-san probably thinks I'm talking about the Mutt, that our usual sparring has stepped up a notch, as they say. I truly wish that were the case; I could more easily deal with a violent out-for-Kaiba-blood Jounouchi Katsuya than - _Shimatta! I probably will have to, if Yuugi-tachi ever finds out…. _"It can't be that bad, unless you actually killed the poor fellow," she adds uncertainly.

"It can be, and I didn't." I gently remove her hand from my shoulder, but hold on to it just a fraction longer than necessary before letting go and turning away. "Thank you, Midori-kun. That will be all."

"Of course, Kaiba-sama."

No, an outright apology is out of the question, but my conversation with Midori-kun has suggested another course of action. Hacking into the school district records is ridiculously easy; I could do it in my sleep. _Ah, here it is…. Bakura-kun _**is**_ present at classes today. That means he wasn't damaged too badly in our confrontation yesterday …_.but my odd sense of relief is tempered by the knowledge that my unfortunate scapegoat has demonstrated an almost masochistic disregard for his own health in the past; i.e., his participation during Battle City despite injuries that had resulted in hospitalization. _That wasn't by choice,_ I remind myself. _Bakura was under some kind of hypnotic control at the time._ Still…

The Domino Hospital computer system isn't much better, security-wise. So much for patient confidentiality! I make a mental note to offer the hospital's Board of Directors a hefty discount on a security network upgrade next time they hit me up for a charitable donation… Hn. _Nothing about Bakura in last night's walk-in emergency treatment records; how about earlier?_

Recordsduring Battle City, yes! Treated for severe lacerations to the upper left arm, emergency treatment authorized by Mutou Sugoroku as acting guardian in absentia... administration of a standard rehydration solution to counteract blood loss, recommendation of over-night observation and blood transfusion pending notification and authorization by parent or legal guardian… _notification of Child Welfare Services? Where the hell **are** Bakura's parents, anyway? Something to look into later…. _Hn_. No mention of the burn mark, that must have occurred after Marik's Rare Hunters kidnapped him….Bastard!_

I fall back into my chair, startled by the surge of anger I feel at this realization. Why? What the hell do I care, that acasual acquaintance of mine was dragged from his sickbed; branded and possibly even … even - my mind shies away from the concept, but I force it back ruthlessly - tortured, then forced to participate in a competition that could conceivably result in serious injury and/or death…. Where is this sense of outraged fury coming from? It's not just embarrassed corporate dignity, that something so despicable should happen under the auspices of a Kaiba Corp. function, nor is it merely a matter of disrespecting my integrity as a Kaiba. It feels almost like a personal affront, and that I don't understand. It's not as if it had been Mokuba….

_But it could have been._ And that sends a chill through me so sharp it almost hurts. _It _**was **_Mokuba, at Duelist Kingdom.…_

Reminded of my brother, I glance at the mantelpiece clock. Almost time… but not quite yet. Back to Bakura….well, at least the doctors at Domino General aren't totally brain-dead. Here's a reference to multiple puncture wounds across Bakura's chest, including a snide speculation as to the cause -_botched body piercings? Oh, please_- and a note to follow up with patient's guardian.

And who exactly is that, anyway? Bakura Taddeo, father; professor of Anthropology at Tokyo University, member emeritus of the Board of Directors of the Domino Cultural Museum, currently on sabbatical at an archeological site in…

_Egypt. Why am I not surprised?_

_(**tbc**)_**

* * *

**

**Revised Authors' Note:** Just a little tweaking here and there. Nothing earth shattering.

**Authors Notes:**

**First**, I'd like to say -Yes, I know my tenses in this chapter tend to shift from past to present and vice versa. I did this on purpose, you see, because Seto is not only remembering the events of yesterday, he's also in a sense **re-living **them. And in the process he's starting to understand what, how and why. Poor baby keeps getting interrupted just as he gets to the -cough- good part -cough-…. Don't lynch me! Please?

**Second**, re: Midori the housekeeper, and that entireconversation - **OC's Gone Wild**! Seriously, all she was supposed to do was bring Seto-darlin' his migraine medicine and provide a convenient interruption to uncomfortable memories! She certainly wasn't supposed to become a surrogate mother (mother confessor?)…Ah well, Seto needs **someone **to talk to, even tho' he's still very vague with the details, and he certainly can't unload on Mokuka or any of the Yuugi-tachi! And Isano (aka Roland)wouldn't be at all sympathetic.

About the honorifics: Midori uses _-sama_ for Seto because he is both her employer and her social superior; Seto uses _-kun_ at first because Midori is his employee and a social inferior. When he suddenly goes into 'little boy' mode and starts using _-san_ instead, he's giving her the respect due to an elder professional or distant family member. I tried to convey the idea that Midori, while startled, understands from past experience with the Kaiba boys that Seto needs a confidant not an employee just now and responds accordingly by using the less formal and more intimate _-kun_. When Seto goes back to using _-kun_, Midori knows immediately that it's back to business as usual with Kaiba_-sama_. Confused? So am I! Hope no one gets uptight if I got it all messed up.

**General reply to reviewers**: I know that you are all anxious to see Seto andRyou together, but it's not going to happen in 'Midnight' except as a flashback to 'Breaking Strain'. Sorry, but this is **Seto**'s introspective...

**AmunRa:** I tried to make this chapter longer, really I did. You got it. **Reliquished:** dancing Seto chibis? oh the horror ! guess I'll have to live with it...see above Gen. Reply. **Kakyo**: Thank you! I'm trying to avoid the cliche's and make Seto multidimensional; I'm glad you think I'm succeeding. Sorry about the e-mail alert, I think that was about the time ffnet was doing maintenance and the alerts got messed up! Hopefully you'll catch this one okay! **Psyche**: Soon enough for you? But Kaibas don't apologize, dear... at least, not directly. Yes, I thought that would be a very Seto thing for him to do; doing good, quietly and anonymously ... plus, he doesn't want to be reminded of his folly. **Curious Forgotten Lore**: "Nevermore!"Thank you, thank you... I need to tell you how much I appreciate your thoughtful reviews! Are you a mind reader, because I swear it's as if you've been peeking inside my head? Yes, he does, btw, that's part of what shocked him out of his 'power high' when he saw Ryou's scars. You know, you're the only person who's asked about the cell phone... my daughter and I discussed it; she thought Beethovan's _Ode to Joy _might be considered tacky enough, while I was considering Queen's _'We Are the Champions'..._ then I read Nenya85's story 'Deja-Vu' in which Seto's watch alarm plays the Macarena (Mokuba picked it out!) and I said, "That's it!" although it never gets mentioned in the story, of course. Private joke, so to speak.

Glad everyone liked the 'Seto in the Shower' scene in Chapter 2. Something I would like to mention; I do try to keep the mangas and the original Japanese versions in mind when I write, but my access to those is limited to Shonen Jump, tranlatedmangas and episode summaries, and sometimes the 4Kids dub fits the plot better than the original version does. I'm also trying to standardize my spelling of the Japanese names, for consistancy if not accuracy. Chapter Four jelled so quickly; I hope No. 5 writes itself as quickly. Later, all!

(eep... AN's almost as long as Chapter! Not good!)

* * *

Mother Chow Goddess 


	5. Afternoon Drive Time

**Rating:** T for swearing, mention of violence, abuse, and attempted rape; Shonen-Ai; SKx RB.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc.

**Summary:** Companion/Sequel to 'Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain' - Kaiba tries to understand what happened in Domino Park, but comes up with more questions than answers. First Person POV.

**Midnight of the Soul**

Chapter Five - Afternoon Drive Time

Thanks to his member emeritus status with the museum board, it's only a minute's work to find a reasonably comprehensive bio/resume for Bakura Taddeo. Eldest son with younger siblings, fairly standard education and academic record through high school, Tokyo University…. Ah. Post-graduate studies in Oxford, England, where he presumably met his British-born wife, Gwyn, -- _is that a surname? It looks unpronounceable…ah, it's Welsh_ -- married, offered a field research internship on a joint Swedish-British archaeological dig outside the Valley of the Kings -- oh this is interesting. But again, not exactly a surprise, all things considered.… Bakura Ryou was actually born in Memphis -- the one in Egypt, not the one in America known for Country music (shudder) and Elvis (double shudder!) -- while his parents were part of the Langford survey. Hmmmm….a sister? I didn't….oh….

I take several deep breaths, trying to ease the sudden tightness in my chest.

_'Following the tragic loss of wife and daughter in a railway accident….'_ Amané. Pretty name; this abstract doesn't include photos…did she have pale hair like you, Bakura? And huge brown eyes? Was she like you, quiet and polite, or was she more like Mokuba, spirited and mischievous? How old were you when it happened? Do… do you miss her? Sometimes I think…. God, if anything happened to Mokuba what would be the point of going on? Without my little brother…. At least you still **have **your father, Bakura. He brought you back to Japan, after all.

So why are Social Services and the Department of Child Welfare involved? Nosy bureaucrats….and where are those socially correct grandparents you'd love to introduce me to, thereby shocking their eyebrows off? I know your actual words were intended as an insult, a comment on my lack of 'breeding'; for all his power and influence, Kaiba Gozaburo was a self-made man… bourgeois. New money, and seriously deficient in the aristocratic traditions and graces. But I saw that gleam in your eye, quickly hidden behind the faux courtesies; there's a bit of resentment there, I think, and if your paternal grandparents are as traditionalist as your words implied I can make a fairly accurate guess as to the reasons.

Eldest son, groomed to follow in the family traditions and destined to succeed the father in the family business -- whatever that might be. Wouldn't be hard to find out, but maybe later-- well-rounded education, finishing up at a prestigious British university… rebels against the family expectations and takes his own path. Not quite unforgivable, until he marries a gaijin, maybe even converts to Christianity since most Europeans are at least lip-serviced to that religion. Instant estrangement, not at all helped by the prodigal son's failure to return to the family bosom at the finish of his post-baccalaureate activities. And he not only refuses to go home, but also allows his own first born (possibly the first grandson of the clan) to greet the world not on ancestral lands but in a foreign country, a pale half-breed surrounded by strangers and even stranger rites….

Hn. Listen to me… I don't know these people; this is pure conjecture on my part but I can't help despising the kind of narrow-minded bigotry I imagine keeps the boy separated from his family. Because I also recall a snatch of classroom gossip -- that Bakura Ryou lives alone, much to the misplaced envy of the bonkotsu, while his father is abroad and disturbing the dust of the best-forgotten ages. Bakura-san's insurance policy from the University pays the hospital bills, but why was it left to Yuugi's grandfather to authorize emergency treatment during Battle City?

I re-open the window to Bakura-kun's school records. **_In Case of Emergency, contact: Isawa Chihiro, or Tanaka Fujiko._** The phone number for Isawa-san is on the Kyoto exchange but looks vaguely familiar for some reason. Tanaka's is the Domino City DCFS office; I automatically memorize both numbers for future reference. The bio on Bakura-san only mentioned the existence of siblings not how many, their gender or names; presumably this Isawa is the nearest excuse for a blood relative available. Not surprising to see that Bakura-kun is a transfer student; his enrollment at Domino High occurred several weeks into my 'breakdown', which why I didn't recognize him at Duelist Kingdom.

Not that I was paying much attention to anyone other than Mokuba, Pegasus and Yuugi at the time. Hell, I didn't realize the boy was evena Duelist until he walked into the Battle City arena that night! If I'd ever thought about it at all, I suppose I just assumed he was part of Mutou's entourage, as modest and retiring as the Mutt is loud and obnoxious. Easy to overlook in the every day scheme of things, quietly studious with surprisingly good grades considering the number of times he's transferred schools in the past few years. Now why is that, I wonder? Not because of his father's job… Bakura-san may be spending an unusual amount of time in foreign locations lately, but Bakura Ryou has stayed right here in Japan for most of it since his mother and sister died. Something to do with those not-very-concerned relatives? Again, something to look into later. Right now it's time to switch the system to stand-by mode while Isono and I fetch my little brother from his school.

Once safely ensconced in the limousine, I quickly plug my laptop into the antenna network and boot-up. I have roughly fifteen to twenty minutes, the length of time it takes to drive from the mansion to Mokuba's school, and I need to make every second count. Because once Mokuba bounces into the backseat of the limo, I will need to pause any applications running on my laptop until he leaves the vehicle again -- that's our rule. One I don't intend to break, especially today when I'm feeling a perfectly understandable reluctance to go anywhere near Mutou Yuugi or the Kame Game Shop; because otouto-chan has an unfortunate habit of wanting to go to visiting at the most inopportune times, and today I will have to tell him 'no' and stick to it. Even if Mokuba hits me with the Puppy-Eyes, and says 'please, big brother?' I **dare** not yield! Not today -- Midori-san was right. It's too soon. I can't face them… I can't face their eyes… **his** eyes….

I do remember Bakura-kun's conditions just before the world went 'tilt-a-whirl' and sanity took off for the nether regions with a small herd of winged porcines: '_This stays between us. No involving family, friends … or ancient Egyptian spirits. Just you and me._' And I had agreed; that whatever he thought was going to happen between us (and God help me, very nearly did!) would stay there -- **our **business, no one else's. Ideally, if neither of us ever mentions it again, there should be no problem. Realistically, that's another matter. Especially with my businessman's mind picking away at our verbal compact as if it were a legal contract -- what if the provisions weren't met? Does that nullify the agreement? Since the postulated extreme possibility **didn't **occur, are we still bound? If so, to what extent?

_Kamisama, I don't believe I'm actually thinking like this! I almost raped the boy, and I'm wondering if I have to abide by 'the code of silence' because I **didn't**? What kind of monster did Gozaburo make of me?_

My hands are shaking again, so badly that I have to stop typing and minimize the screen. I have no intention of telling anyone the truth about yesterday, but what about Bakura? He was the one who proposed the 'agreement', presumably as an attempt to avoid further embarrassment to himself afterwards. Family, friends… what did he think, that I would go around boasting to everyone that I'd literally f-cked him over? Or that I would be so petty as to take out my anger on the others if I failed? _Yes,_ I answer myself, and mentally cringe; _he_ _probably did think that. _'Sensitive' and 'compassionate' are not words normally used to describe me. My reputation for being cold-hearted, ruthless, and vindictive serves me well in the business world, and until now I've never regretted its carry-over into my so-called private life.

Not that I do now, you understand. I could actually care less what the Mutt, his cohort whatever-his- name-is, or Mazaki think of me. Mutou… for some strange reason he seems to think I'm a friend, of all things -- or at least, not an enemy, even when we're trying to beat each other into the ground at Duel Monsters. And in spite of all the times I've sneered at his attempts to drag me into their Egyptian fairy tale and that idiotic 'heart of the cards' philosophy, I … respect Yuugi…and, well… I don't want him to think badly of me. Or rather, any worse than he and his -- Other Self? -- already do.

I'm not blind or deaf; I've heard about the mysterious 'accidents' that befall others who run afoul of Mutou Yuugi, and as far as I can determine, Mokuba and I are amongst the rare few individuals who've survived mostly sane and alive. Yuugi and his friends are well protected by 'mou hitori no Yuugi', something I've grudgingly benefited from myself although I'm not at all certain when my status as 'dangerous adversary' metamorphed into 'reluctant ally'. Yuugi is a kind-hearted genki, willing to befriend even the most unlikely individuals, and seeming to possess an endless capacity to forgive the most outrageous sins if the perpetrator repents; his 'Other Self' is another matter. I have no desire to face his 'Mind Crush' again…and yet I know all too well how deserved that punishment would be. But this time, I would not wake up. And who would take care of Mokuba?

Midori-san. Yuugi-tachi. Perhaps even Bakura-kun, out of pity for having such a monster for an older brother, if no other reason.

I've giving up trying to do anything worthwhile on my laptop and realize dully that the monitor has reverted to the screen saver – an aborted experiment at using Duel Monster cards to play solitaire that even I could never quite wrestle into coherency. But it's colorful and interesting to watch and _innocent_; Mokuba likes it, and every so often I attempt to make it work properly….

"Nii-sama!"

And the laptop is shoved aside as an energetic bundle of black hair and purest brotherly love scrambles into the seat next to me. Small but strong hands grab my shoulders while worried grey eyes scrutinize my face.

"You look awful, big brother…. Did you go to work? I **told** you not to! Isono, I **told** him……"

"This is the first time Mr. Kaiba has left the mansion all day, master Mokuba…"

"Like that would stop him! What's that on your – oh, the solitaire game…."

"Mokuba." Finally I get a word in edgewise. "How was school today?"

He shrugs. "It was Friday. Surprise quiz in Language….I'm pretty sure I got a hundred percent. Are you okay?"

"I've had a killer headache for most of the day – Moku', stop examining my pupils, I do not have a concussion! – and Isono is quite correct, I did not leave the mansion until fifteen minutes ago." My oh-so-NOT-trusting brother snorts, only slightly mollified, and I decide to stop trying to avoid the inevitable. "Did you want to go somewhere this afternoon, kiddo?"

He does, I can tell by the wistful glance he casts back towards the school yard where some of his classmates are slowly making their way across the playground, and what's left of my heart aches. So much of what I've been and done for the past five years has been so that Mokuba can be what I couldn't be -- a child. And yet, when I think back on how close he came to becoming a murderous little thug because he wanted, God help us, to be like **me --**! I shudder and privately bless the Mutous: Sugoroku, Yuugi, and whatever name the Other wants use; be it Yami no Yuugi, Pharaoh, or God-Emperor of all Creation. Even now, he's far too aware of the realities of life, too much a grown-up for hiseleven years -- he needs to play, to be a kid hanging out with friends with his only concerns being to get home in time for dinner and whether girls are icky or interesting. I nudge Mokuba and nod towards the loose knot of sixth graders, some of whom I recognize as being in my brother's section, waiting at the crosswalk for the signal to change.

"I'll be fine, kiddo." He chews his lip indecisively and I manage something that is more genuine smile than smirk. "Go have fun."

Mokuba hesitates for another moment then with a rib-bruising hug and a breathed "See ya later, Seto!" flings himself out of the limo and onto the sidewalk, calling, "Oi, Tohru! Miko! Wait up!" I see several of the boys turn at his shout and grin. They pull my brother into their group, already laughing and chattering and trading friendly insults and jokes. Mokuba is not me, and the gods willing, never will be. For his sake I can endure pain, deprivation and other unpleasantness. I can endure insults and thoughtless cruelty, I can even endure the presence of Mutou Yuugi and his baka menagerie. I can…

_Kamisama, if there is any mercy in heaven, do not let Mokuba ever discover my monstrous assault upon Bakura yesterday! Let Bakura despise me, let Jounouchi spit venom and threats, let the Other Yuugi send my mind and soul to eternal darkness; but please do not let me lose my brother's love. Do not let Mokuba hate me…. _

That I can **not** endure.

"Where to now, sir? Kaiba Corp.?"

"Back to the mansion." Not home; that huge mausoleum of a house was never really a home. Home is Mokuba, and perhaps Midori-san. People I can count on, who won't judge me but aren't afraid to tell me they think I'm wrong. People who think that maybe I'm … still human.

The limousine pulls away from the curb, slightly rocking on the shocks and jars my still-operating laptop. I glance down at the screen and feel a chill. On top of one solitaire 'stack' of virtual cards is the Blue-eyes Ultimate Dragon, but as I watch the next card of the 'dealer's' deck flips over to reveal…

**Change of Heart.** Half demon, half angel.

And the Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon disintegrates. Game over.

I try to tell myself that it means nothing, a glitch in the code that I never was able to eliminate, one of the reasons I couldn't get the game to run properly. Pure coincidence that 'Change of Heart' was reportedly Bakura Ryou's favorite card.

_'…I don't like who I become when I Duel…'_

_Neither do I, Bakura. _

But do I mean Bakura's Other … or myself?

(tbc)

* * *

A/N: I'm thinking "Midnight" will be wrapped up in one more chapter, Kaiba willing. Sorry about the long wait, minna. Real Life has been a total Bastard, since about mid-March. I've got a good start on the next story, though…Ryou's POV will be back, Honda gets suspicious and hangs out with the Pharaoh in the nurses' office, and we might even be able to work in a guest appearance or two. BTW, although I LOVE long, insightful reviews, it's okay to keep it short if you need to……

Eveyone who commented on Midori-san - I guess she isn't as much an OC as I'd thought! The Shonen Jump Yu-Gi-Oh! Duelist mangas mention a maid in the Kaiba mansion who was the only person Mokuba trusted while Seto was in his 'coma' -- obviously that **must** have been Midori-san!

**Mangez-Maltesers** - Loved your review of WoaF: BS; did you get to read "Shadow" before I took it down? Would you like to? **Psyche **- Seto is going to try (eventually); the real question is, will Ryou let him? Especially after the nightmares he's going to be having…. **Curious Forgotten Lore** - another awesome review, I'm glad you got such a kick out of Seto's cell phone! Yes, it is ironic; even the Tomb Robber thinks so, that Seto's actions have pushed Ryou away when the priest's reincarnation is the only one who -- uh, I shouldn't a-told you that…..(best Haggrid-voice). And you'll notice that we addressed the 'telling' question somewhat in this chapter; Seto doesn't really think Ryou's going to spill the beans deliberately, but he also has some inkling of how hard it is to keep secrets from Yuugi-tachi! I understand your concern about the kiss, and I'm already on it. Trust me, Seto will be a gentleman. And Ryou will be totally confused. **AmunRa** - still trying. We are so cruel to our Seto-darlin', aren't we? I think sometimes we forget that Seto, for all his arrogance and attitude, is still a teen-ager and still subject to typical manic-depressive mood swings and desperately needs huggles however vehemently he denies it. **Nachez BR** -hey there! I like Susan Cooper too! 'The Dark is Rising' series is right up there with The Chronicles of Narnia on my bookshelves. **Miguels-Lover** - glad you're enjoying the story so far! **KakyoTheStick**: oh, my! Story instead of make-up? You make me blush! **shadowwaker:** Hiya! Glad you stopped in; and thanks so much for your comments on "Shadow" over on the list… should I start posting WoaF over there too? **Ciu Cine**:Again, I really appreciate long thoughtful reviews, although I'm terrible about leaving them. I'm afraid it's going to take a while to resolve the Seto-Ryou dynamic; after all, we have at least two kidnappings, a sealed deck Duel, vengeful ex-Kaiba Corp. employees, and a pissed-off Pharaoh to deal with, let alone assorted past-life memories and nightmares to wade through…… Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha! And Seto freaking out because Ryou is singing gruesome English folk songs under his breath in the background while he's trying to interrogate a thug as to Mokuba's where-abouts? ----ah, forget I mentioned that…… I worry about that boy's mental state, really I do…..

Guess that's it for now….BTW, folks... re: anything I may write here or on my bio page regarding plot complications... take it with a grain of salt. Nothing is writ in stone yet; half the time I'm just rambling and making it up as I go along...

Bai!


	6. Twilight

**Midnight of the Soul**

Chapter Six: Twilight

Disclaimers: see Chapter 1 – Ditto for warnings & ratings

Oh, and I apologize in advance for any OOC Seto & Mokuba cuteness!

* * *

People talk about having their lives turned 'upside down' in less a second; it doesn't always happen that quickly and sometimes it's more of a good shake up rather completely turned over, with lingering aftershocks that take a while to subside. And while it may not appear that anything has really changed, some of the pieces aren't where they used to be…. They don't fit the old pattern anymore or have gone missing entirely, and sometimes there are brand new pieces that need to be incorporated into the kaleidoscope mosaic. Or you realize pieces you thought didn't belong at all are such an essential part of the design that you smack yourself in the head and vow to go see an eye specialist in the morning, because surely you must have gone partially blind not to have seen it earlier.

That's not quite what's happened to me, but it's damned close.

Mokuba called about an hour ago. His friend Tohru's parents had invited him to supper, and I of course said 'yes' -- as long as he was back by 9:00; it is, after all, still a school night even if it's only a half-day tomorrow. Midori-san discovered the remnants of last night's popcorn orgy and gave me a stern lecture on nutrition, responsibility and setting a good example for my younger brother. Keh. I think I shocked her when in the middle of her tirade I stood up, said in a very meek tone of voice: "I'm sorry, okaasan, I won't do it again. May I go to my room now?", then leaned over (at six foot plus, I'm taller than most adults, even) and kissed her goodnight on the cheek. Something I haven't done since -- well, I don't think I ever have, before. How odd. It just seemed like the proper thing to do, under the circumstances.

You'd think a person might get used to the shock of having reality re-arranged, should it happen often enough. Maybe some people do, taking each change in stride or looking at it as an opportunity… a challenge or an adventure. Some people, I suspect, become overwhelmed and stop reacting entirely; the mental ward at the hospital is full of catatonic patients who couldn't deal with the shock of a changed reality. I nearly was one of them, thanks to the Other Yuugi. And yet, it was the Other Yuugi who pulled me out of where-ever I was -- he and Mokuba, through my soul bond with the Blue-Eyes White Dragon cards.

Heh. Forty-eight hours ago I would have sneered in the face of anyone, even Mutou Yuugi, who tried to talk to me about the heart of the cards, ancient spirits and magical talismans. Me, a reincarnated Egyptian Priest? Yuugi, an Egyptian Pharaoh? Bakura-kun….I'm not sure what he is supposed to be. Was supposed to be.

I don't know who you are, Bakura Ryou. But from what I now know **about **you, I think maybe under other circumstances we could have been friends. You were just short of your tenth birthday when a careless locomotive engineer shattered your family; I was just past mine when aspeeding drunkdriver robbed Mokuba and I of ours. We have so much in common – if I believed in such things, I'd be tempted to say it was destiny. Both of us abandoned, neglected, or abused by those who should have cared for us --- if our relatives had been kinder and less greedy, if yours had nurtured you instead of treating you like an unwelcome embarrassment, if Gozaburo had truly been the kind of man his Public Relations people portrayed him as being -- we might never have met, true, but if we had….

Too late now. If you ever had even the slightest regard for me, it must be utterly destroyed after yesterday.

Are you like me, trying to fight what others claim to be your destiny? Feh! Just another way they try control **our** lives! I had Mokuba to give my life a purpose. What did you have? A chronically absent father, emotionally distant relatives, constant instability in your life with so many school transfers --- oh, and let's not forget a maniacal alter ego with a penchant for the occult and deadly destruction. No wonder you hover at the edges of Yuugi-tachi like a moth near a flame, afraid of getting burned again but still craving the warmth and the light of friendship. Somehow you hold on, you survive; because of your 'Other Self' -- or in spite of him?

Was that how the Rare Hunters got their hooks into you during Battle City, by offering to exorcise your personal Egyptian demon in exchange for your help in defeating the King of Games? I wouldn't blame you for it, if I'm right about your Other Self being responsible for those most recent school transfers -- because I've been there. Willing to do anything to make the nightmare go away. To make **him **go away. No, far more likely that they made a deal with **him **behind your back, so to speak, because I remember too well the fear and confusion in your voice when the false Marik returned you to yourself on the Battle Ship's dueling platform. Some people might think you got off relatively easy with a brand and some stab wounds, considering the mess those cultists made of Marik's back.

I don't. It makes me sick.

Gozaburo tried to own me -- and he came closer than I care to admit. The forced studies, the sleep deprivation, the beatings, and the threats… they all took their toll, left scars both visible and unseen. Sexual abuse -- no, **that **he never did, other than to make sure I understood the penalties for failure, for betrayal: death, or worse. Death was not an option; I refused to leave Mokuba alone and defenseless. 'Worse' -- I like to think I would not have broken, that I could have used it instead to strengthen my hate and will to survive, to turn the tables on my tormentor and crush him instead. But it was not only **my** body and soul at risk; one of Gozaburo's associates 'liked' young boys, and I was already too old.

And so I became what Gozaburo wanted me to be. That last day in the boardroom we both knew that only one of us would walk out alive. I'd done everything I could to stack the deck in my favor. Isono was **my** man, not Gozaburo's; he had instructions regarding Mokuba in the event that I failed. Even so, I was terrified: I could still lose, Isono could still betray me….

I won that day. But I also lost, because no matter how hard I try to bury him Gozaburo is still part of me. Not even the Other Yuugi's 'Mind Crush' could completely purge that bastard's influence from my soul, the infection had gone too deep. I survived Gozaburo, I defied Isis Ishtar's prophecies -- I still don't believe in that 'destiny' crap, but the other pieces of the puzzle have started to almost make sense. And that scares me. Almost as much as the realization of what I did … what I almost did … to Bakura yesterday.

I have to face it. Tonight, before Mokuba gets home. Yesterday… I can't avoid it any longer, I have to stop making excuses. It wasn't a misunderstanding; it wasn't about the motorcycle or insults, or even raging teenage hormones. Rape is not about sex. It's anger and violence, and forcing another person to submit to your will, reducing them to something less than human in your eyes --- and in their own --- in a brutally painful and humiliating manner. It's power and control; humiliation, punishment and defeat.

Do you know, Bakura, how it feels ? To know that **you **can inspire fear and awe in another's soul? That **your **word controls life and death, that **your** touch evokes pain -- or pleasure -- against another's will? Marik knows. I think your Other Self does, too. It's like a drug. Overwhelming and addictive, because the more you get the more you want; dangerous, because the more you get the more you think you need until nothing else matters. Nothing. You start to think that power gives you control, keeps others from controlling you.

It does, and it doesn't. I lost control yesterday at the very moment I believed I held it strongest. I believed you to be helpless, I believed I had won -- all I had to do was force you to admit defeat. Still you resisted, refused to submit. You weren't actively fighting back, but you weren't cooperating, either. Don't you understand, Bakura? I **had** to break you, to control you, to hold onto the power. I had control when I forced a reaction, the gasp of shock that allowed me a taste of your fear, and I didn't hesitate to press my advantage. I felt your body respond to mine and it was like a strong shot of sake, burning and glowing and going straight to my head and…god. It was holding Obelisk and knowing that I was invincible again, euphoria bubbling in my blood and out through my lungs in a burst of triumphant laughter … I wanted more, and I knew you could give it to me. All I had to do was take it.

You refused to look at me; stronger than you seem, and I have the bruises to prove it, but I will not be denied, Bakura! Fuck this passive resistance; you will acknowledge me, damn you! Even if I risk getting mind/soul blasted by some ancient Egyptian demon I won't admit to believing in, let alone being afraid of -- you're the one who's afraid, I can taste it on your skin. Fear, and something else. I hear it as you struggle to breathe, I feel it in the tremors that shake the slender frame unwillingly pressed beneath my own …

_'….please, Kaiba…. Don't…'_

I feel a smirk coming on. There's blood on your lip, coppery and salty. _So,_ I purr sadistically to myself as I let my hand explore beneath your jacket, my fingers making quick work of undoing the oh-so-properly buttoned-up barrier of your school shirt, _just what is it that you're so afraid of, ne? Paying the penalty, or the possibility that you might actually be -- well, maybe not _enjoying_ yourself, but you could be trying harder to stop me._ The tips of my fingers skim across soft skin that quivers at my touch, smooth but with a barely discernable texture sends inexplicable shivers down my spine. Calling it 'satin-like' would be cliché and that's something I try to avoid, especially while seducing a riv— is that what I'm doing? I thought I was subduing my opponent, claiming my prize. The idea of Bakura, of all people, being a rival--! I growl deep in my throat. No, that title belongs solely to Mutou Yuugi! All the others are zako, insignificant gnats that deserve only to be swatted and crushed, like this boy who dares challenge and defy me! Then my fingers seem to catch against a strange roughness and -- sticky? Bakura **screams**….

I feel like I've been drenched suddenly in ice water; the shock almost stops my heart. Bakura… oh God, what… what am I doing? I think I'm going to vomit, there are scars and oozing blood and --- no, tell me that's not what I think it is--- I'm hallucinating, that's it…. There is **not **an encircled triangle burned into… into…. Hesitantly I touch the mark and the boy underneath me flinches, tears in his dark brown eyes.

"What --" I can barely force the words to come out -- "who did this?" Not me, I know sometimes I get strange when I'm on what Mokuba calls a 'power high' but surely I'd remember doing something like this, I wouldn't fall that far from sanity again -- would I?

"What the hell do you care?" My turn to flinch, because Bakura has a point. Why should I care what some other sadistic psycho has done to him? After all I was about to…Bile rises in my throat, and I barely keep from spewing…. Dear god, I was…. "Just do it, Kaiba. Get it over with."

I can't.

I've won.

I've….lost.

And only now, some twenty four - six - eight, whatever! - hours later can I admit to myself not only that I've lost, but how much and how badly…. I was so blind. All through the Battle City Tournament my goal was to win the God Cards and defeat Mutou Yuugi, to regain my World Championship title and publicly prove that I am not just Kaiba Gozaburo's private punching bag and corporate puppet, not just a foolish child playing games while the adults pull the strings and make me dance. Winning would give me a position of strength by restoring public confidence in Kaiba Corporation, so that I could finally shake off the last traces of Gozaburo's poison and keep my promises to Mokuba. No one and nothing could be allowed to stand in my way; anyone who tried would be crushed. No mercy.

Just like Gozaburo taught me.

How many times do I have to prove myself? How many times to I have to kill him? **Why. Won't. The Bastard. Stay. DEAD?**

I wish I could just curl up in a corner of my bed and let these frustrations drain away in a torrent of tears, like any normal teenager might -- but I can't. I'm not normal. I'm what Gozaburo made me -- a monster. Monsters don't cry. Monsters don't make friends with the lonely, abused and neglected boy from the other side of town, the boy with his own demon inside; not after trying to beat him into the ground, to force him into submission by any means.

Especially not after trying to rape him.

Monsters are violent, hateful, and greedy. They aren't capable of being kind and caring. Monsters …can't…change…

_Can they? Can I? I have already, a little, I think… I've tried… for Mokuba. Death-T is gone, and KaibaLand rises brilliant and gleaming in its stead. Alcatraz is gone; Gozaburo's war machine is scrap metal rusting on the ocean floor. I have Kaiba Corporation. I have my dragons. I have Mokuba…. What more do I need? _

"Seto? Are you awake?" I sit up, hastily rubbing my face dry against a pillow. Tears are a weakness. Never show weakness, not even to Mokuba.

"I am now, kiddo," I manage to reply with only the faintest quaver in my voice.

"Sorry…"

"Don't be."

"Bad dreams?"

"Aa." I hold out my arms, and Mokuba doesn't hesitate to jump up onto the bed and into a snuggle. Mokuba never learned to fear another person's embrace, and I feel a whisper of warm relief in my soul, in knowing that I was able to protect him from that, at least. "Did you have fun this evening?"

"Yup! You should have been there, Nii-san!" and he's off and chattering, a living breathing miracle, practically unscathed by the darkness that shaped me and ruled our lives for so many years. I let my brother ramble while I hold him close, cherish him, vowing once again to keep him safe with everything I have and am, for as long as humanly possible. For as long as he'll let me.

_Don't hate me, ototou-chan. Please…. I know I'm a monster, but I'm trying… I'm trying to change… _

**Change of Heart.**

My Blue-Eyes shattering, like glass.

I shudder and Mokuba squeaks in protest at the sudden tightening of my arms. "Nii-san?"

"Sorry." I let go, half expecting him to retreat warily. Instead. Mokuba settles down next to me.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"A little." Actually, it's my heart that hurts, and I'm damned if I can understand why – well, I'm probably already damned long since, just ask the bonkotsu, he'd be willing and able to reel off a long detailed list of my sins beginning with the day I first walked into the Class 2-B homeroom and ending…with yesterday, if he knew.

"I'll be quiet, then."

"It's alright, Moku'; I like to hear you talk."

My little brother gasps loudly in fake shock and takes a dramatic tumble off the bed. "You -- ! Who are you, and what have you done with Seto?"

It's been a long time since I've tried to look innocent and injured, I'm out of practice, but I give it my best shot. "Mokuba! Little brother, I'm right here! Whatever do you mean?"

He hits me with a pillow. I smirk.

"Of course you realize," I drawl with the thick American accent of one of Mokuba's favorite cartoon characters – the weird duck, you understand, not that inane rabbit Pegasus was enamored with – "This means War!"

This also means, part of my mind notes, another lecture from Midori-san about how pillows are meant for sleeping on, not waging mock Armageddon against ones' siblings. But it's worth it to hear Mokuba's giggles and laughter as the feathers fly and the sheets get tangled and at last we both collapse atop the ravaged mattress, breathless and exhausted.

"Niisama?"

"Hai."

"… love you."

"Mou…." The breath catches in my throat. "Even if I did something terrible, Moku'?"

"That's nothing new."

"But… you don't know…."

"Doesn't matter….are you sorry?"

"And if I'm not?"

"You are, I can tell… even then, niisan."

"Why?"

"Baka." Mokuba boffs me in the head with a dragon plushie and gives me The Look. "Baka, baka, baka, baka."

"You love me because I'm a moron? I guess that explains your attachment to Yuugi-tachi…."

THWAP!

"They're no such thing and you know it, Seto!" The fierceness of his reply is startling, and my immediate impulse is to respond with a some scathing comment about the mediocrity of Jounouchi Katsuya, or Masaki Anzu's annoying predilection for lectures about things she knows **nothing** about, or Mutou Yuugi's naïve trust in the innate goodness of humanity when Mokuba and I are living proof of the exact opposite, or Bakura – my mouth snaps shut before a single syllable emerges. The worst of it is that he's right.

"Bedtime, kiddo." I change the subject abruptly, forestalling indignant protests by figuratively pulling the rug out from under Mokuba's feet (considering we're both still sprawled helter-skelter across my bed) and literally hauling his ass down the hallway to his own room. My brother, of course, puts up a struggle, especially when we pass Midori-san along the way -- Kaibas do **not** 'go quietly into that good night' as the British poet so eloquently put it, even if there is school tomorrow. And why is my housekeeper giving me that odd look? Mokuba is quick to enlighten me once we reach sanctuary.

"There are feathers stuck to your ass," he snickers.

"Language, Moku'."

"Pot, kettle, black."

"Thank you, little brother, but I am unfortunately all too aware of the inconsistencies between my own behavior and the code of conduct I should like you to observe…" I try to keep my tone dry and detached, but apparently my usual mask is too badly cracked, because Mokuba squirms about to wrap arms and legs tightly around my upper torso and clings limpet-like with his face buried against my shoulder.

"Sorry, big brother," he mumbles, and I sigh.

"Not your fault, kiddo. My mess, my mistakes…. My responsibility to clean it up."

"Huh?"

I gently detach Mokuba from my side, setting him down on the edge of his bed and lowering myself to kneel on the floor in front of him. He looks… apprehensive and a little scared, because he knows it has to be serious.

"Er…. Seto? If this is about the, um, birds and the bees? I already know, kinda…."

And to both our surprise, I laugh in genuine amusement and appreciation.

"I wish! That would be…. well, not easy, but……easier." I take a deep breath. "Mokuba. Remember what I said during Battle City about burying the past and starting over?" He inhales sharply and opens his mouth, hurt written across his expression at the memory; I forestall him by placing a hand on his shoulder. "I never intended to hurt you with that; the past I wanted to forget was Gozaburo, not you. Not our dreams for making other children happy. I **want **to be the big brother you remember, but… I … don't know if it's possible anymore….I don't know if I can be…."

Mokuba's biting his lip.

"I **want** to be, Mokuba, but I don't know…. it might be too late….. I might not be able to … to fix… what I've broken. But I'm going to try…"

"You'll do it, Seto. I know you will." Mokuba's face is streaked with tears, but his voice is strong and confident. _Little brother…. I wish I had your faith in me._

"It won't be easy," I warn. "I'll make mistakes and lose my temper and use language unfit for polite company, and be generally rude and unpleasant…."

Ototou-chan makes a rude noise of his own. "So what else is new?"

"… and… I'm…goingtotrytobenicertoYuugitachi….."

I take my leave while Mokuba is still getting over the shock of my final statement and head back to my room. When I boil it down to the basics, it seems simple enough. If I want to change, the first step is to change my behavior. That should eventually result in a change in perceptions, both my own and those with whom I interact on a regular basis. It won't happen overnight; it took years to turn me into a monster and although I hope it won't take that long to turn me back into a human being, I'm not optimistic. Because so much depends on factors that are completely out of my control.

What do I do now, Other Yuugi? How do I atone for my crimes? How do I heal the wounds I've inflicted?

I don't know what to do. What **can** I do?

Nothing, yet. Like Midori-san said, I need to give it time. I was wrong, in thinking the game was over yesterday. It's Bakura's move, and we never set a time limit.

God help us both.

* * *

Aaaand, that's a wrap on "Midnight." Next stop: either "Still Waters" or "Calm Before the Storm" -- I'm still uncertain about what I'm going to do with Ryou's POV chapter; it took that proverbial 'left turn at Albuquerque!'.

**Author's Notes**: Thank you to all my faithful readers, and some new ones I seem to have acquired as well. There seems to be considerable interest in having Kaiba meet the Japanese grandparents at some point – I think it could be arranged. Eventually. And several people enjoyed the way I had Seto piece together Ryou's history from various public records. As to the Dual Monsters 'solitaire' game – that's sort of a manifestation of the Yami no Game Ryou called on Seto at the end of 'Breaking Strain', as are assorted nightmares both boys will be experiencing from time to time. Special thanks to **Amun-Ra** for reading an earlier version of this chapter when I got stuck, and making some helpful comments and asking a couple of questions that made me think harder. **Curious Forgotten Lore**: Better late than never! See above comment about the grandparents. You're right, Seto doesn't have a very high opinion of Bakura Senior, but I couldn't really think of a way to bring that out in this particular story. Um, about the Kiss in the park and Ryou's reaction – well, let's just say both boys are deliberately **not** thinking about the, erm, implications, other than Kaiba being on a power high. **PenPusherM**: Um, hi? I know this wasn't particularly soon, and it's still a bit of a cliff hanger – don't hurt me? **Mangez-Maltesers**: were you able to open the 'Shadows' attachment? I ask because I sent a preview to my sister (LyntheLurker) and she couldn't get it to work. I LUV writing Seto & Mokuba interaction! I think it's an addiction; I had the hardest time getting this chapter back on track! **Nachez & Psyche** – thanks for still reading. **Kakyo**: where are you?

Later!

Mother CHOW Goddess


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